


Draco’s Year with the Muggles: Fleeing from Death

by Zakaira



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Slash, Veela
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4364987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zakaira/pseuds/Zakaira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The entire Malfoy family was attacked and Draco’s parents were killed. Draco fled and survived hiding among the Muggle homeless population. He managed to stay under the radar until he gave birth. Reports of male pregnancy in the Muggle world automatically send wizards in to investigate. The task just happened to fall to Aurors Harry and Ron, who track down Draco and the baby, discovering just what has happened to Draco since the end of the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oneshot

 Author’s Notes: This was originally an oneshot I wrote for the Harry/Draco Mpreg fest, Betaed by Edelau. There seemed to be some confusion about the ending, with many reviewers feeling that there wasn’t one. The ending has always been there, but the issue is that it isn’t quite at the end of the story. I couldn’t leave the story there and wrote past the ending. So to avoid any further confusion, I am breaking this story up into chapter 1, the proper oneshot, ending with the ending of this story, and chapter 2, the epilogue part that I couldn’t help but adding. If you have already read this story, there is no new material here, just a teeny amount of restructuring.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry’s POV:

            In the days after the war, there was such a demand for public resources that wizards found themselves turning to public services provided by the Muggles. St. Mungo’s and the other Wizarding hospitals were completely filled with life threatening cases, so all but the most serious of injuries were turned away. Witches and wizards thus turned to Muggle hospitals, allowing the Muggles to use their strange ‘sutures’ to ‘sew up’ their wounds. With many houses destroyed, witches and wizards found themselves seeking out Muggle homeless shelters. And with so many Wizarding fields and crops destroyed or damaged, witches and wizards turned to Muggle handouts.

            The government of the United Kingdom, ran by the Muggles, had a rather socialist leaning, and thus provided all sorts of handouts to its citizens, including food, clothing, shelter, and medical treatment. In the days after the war, many magical people took advantage of this fact and the Muggles were too blind to realize they were being taken advantage of. Since witches and wizards do not pay taxes or support the Muggle system in any way, they are considered leeches on the system. The Ministry of Magic thus tasked their office of Magical Law Enforcement to route the abusers out and get them appropriate magical aid, if necessary.

            The Death Eaters were the Ministry’s top concern at first. All available personnel were moved into tasks relating to the capture and detainment of dangerous dark wizards. When citizens volunteered to join up, they were encouraged first to join the much depleted Auror division. There were just no resources available for tracking down Muggle leeches and no magical resources to give them if found.

            It wasn’t until months after the war that Magical Law Enforcement Officers were finally available to deal with the problem. By then, many witches and wizards had infiltrated the Muggle system so deeply that it was hard to spot them. Thus over a year later, we were still getting reports of strange occurrences in the Muggle world. The newly trained Aurors, such as Ron and I, were often given the assignment to investigate as easy training cases, to prove that we could handle real investigative work on our own without a senior Auror looking over our shoulder.

            Ron and I had already proved our medal a thousand fold and weren’t normally given such simple cases anymore. We were handling more serious disputes with reported violence on a regular basis. But this particular day we were working the night shift and everyone else was out on other cases when the call came in. These leech cases weren’t typically considered top priority and would normally wait until morning when someone less important came in, but this one was marked high priority, so we went out to investigate.

            The reason the case was marked high priority had to do with the fact that it involved a wizard who had given birth in the Muggle world. While wizards have some difficultly becoming pregnant, it is a practical impossibility for male Muggles. If it got out, it would be major news in the Muggle world. Thus it was standard knowledge that pregnant wizards were to stay out of notice of all Muggles, punishable with a maximum sentence of a large fine and a year in Azkaban. The maximum sentence was only imposed on repeat offenders who had knowingly and willingly caused a major security breech. If it was an accident or an unavoidable occurrence, the Ministry would clean up the problem with no punishment to the first time offender.

            According to the reports, this particular wizard had first received medical treatment from the Muggles under the name Dre Smith shortly after the war and stayed in a shelter. He was later moved into a halfway house and put on public subsidy to pay for his clothing and pocket money, while his food and board were covered flat out. He had also received regular mental health treatment related to an alleged mental trauma.

            It was typical shite until one month ago when Dre was taken to hospital and the pregnancy was discovered. He was already eight months along. Due to the unusual nature of the sex organs, he was kept in hospital until he delivered. The halfway house was for blokes and now that it was realized that he wasn’t entirely male, he was being moved to a home for pregnant women and new mothers. The unusual change recorded in the Muggle paperwork was what alerted the Ministry that night to the issue.

            “Smith, huh? Do you think this bloke’s related to Zacharias Smith?” Ron asked as we made our way towards the Muggle shelter in question in an exclusively Muggle region of Surrey.

            After changing out of our Auror robes and into our designated Auror Muggle clothes, we’d first had to apparate to the nearest apparition checkpoint, which was an old disused Muggle telephone booth a block away. Now we were walking the remainder of the distance, Ron turned around and walking backwards in order to talk to me.

            I shrugged. “Maybe, I guess.”

            “What if it _is_ Zacharias?” Ron asked, face lighting up with amusement.

            “Well come on then, let’s go find out,” I said, bypassing Ron, since I was walking in the correct direction and therefore going at the greater speed.

            Ron spun around and jogged after me, catching up quickly. “Wonder what the Muggles thought of having to perform a Cesarean on a bloke,” Ron said with a suggestive waggle of his brows.

            Of course with a male birth, a Cesarean section was a necessity to get the baby out. There were a number of magical methods invented that vastly improved upon the Muggle technique, which was why it was so rare that a wizard would consent to the Muggle method unless it was an absolute emergency. Even during the mayhem after the war, male wizards in labor were still supposed to be admitted with top priority at magical hospitals, although a few men hadn’t known that and had gone to the Muggles for help. Those cases had since been cleaned up and the necessary Muggles obliviated.

            “You know Ron, if he’s been in Muggle care since the war, it’s possible he has amnesia. We could be dealing with someone who doesn’t know they are a wizard,” I said. “He might’ve been just as surprised as the Muggles that he turned up preggers.”

            “Possibly,” Ron conceded. “Hey look, they’re Muggles hanging out of that window looking at us. Suppose we’ve messed up Muggle dress?”

            We were around the corner from our destination and in a Muggle-dense region, so it wasn’t unusual for there to be Muggles around. My Muggle dress was impeccable when it came to slumming it, but less accurate when it came to business or formal wear. We were wearing business slacks and polo shirts, so I knew mine was fine. But Ron had occasionally made Muggle fashion mistakes in the past, so I gave him a once over as we walked. “You look fine. Probably just nosey. We’re close now; we should keep quiet in case they overhear,” I said and Ron gave a curt nod of agreement.

            We were soon at the entrance to the shelter and took the lift up to the desired floor. There we asked to see Dre Smith. We were shown into a waiting room in the front of the compound while our fake IDs were examined and verified to be real. We explained that we knew Dre from school, since the age on the Muggle paperwork indicated that Dre was the same age as us. We just wanted to see how ‘she’ was and possibly extend our help, now that we were aware that ‘she’ was in need. How we knew ‘she’ was here was glossed over with a quick spell.

            “Andrea has undergone quite a shock,” a pudgy middle aged Muggle woman explained to us once she bought our story. “Her parents were murdered in front of her a little over a year ago and she received a head wound in the attack. She entered the system as Dre Smith and it was thought she was a man, because of her straight, slender build. It seems unfathomable that they missed it, but apparently no one bothered to check. She does have rather boyish mannerisms; we figured she’s one of those newfangled transgender lesbians. But how a lesbian turned up pregnant is a bit of a mystery. Tell me, gentlemen, what was she like in school?”

            “Went by the name of Dre, tried to act like a bloke, but a good person,” Ron said with a shrug, repeating back the information we’d already been given. It always helped to speak highly of allegedly old friends.

            “I was never sure she really _was_ a girl, she acted so much like us. It was only that she was in the girl’s dorm and used the girl’s loo that gave her away. Just out of curiosity, are you sure she’s not, you know, at all like us?” I asked, trying to tease out how much this Muggle knew. From what she’d said so far, it was possible she didn’t need to be obliviated. Likely some Muggle up the chain had initiated the lie and covered up the abnormality, reducing the impact.

            “Oh I didn’t look myself, but the doctors said she’s all female on the inside. Not entirely right on the outside, I heard; maybe that’s why she was able to cover so well. She certainly is flat chested and unable to breastfeed that babe of hers,” the Muggle replied.

            “She always was flat up top,” Ron confirmed as if he knew this Dre. That was an Auror trick to make people tell more: parrot back what the witness says, to make them think you already knew.

            “Well when can we see her?” I asked.

            “I’ll call her up right now. It may take her a moment or two, she has the baby and all.”

            Ron glanced at the nameplate on the desk the Muggle had come from and said, “Thanks Mrs. Harper.”

            I added my thanks and the two of us remained sitting in the lounge, while Mrs. Harper went back to her desk and picked up a telephone. Ron raised an eyebrow at me and I raised one at him back. We did our best not to crack up in amusement as we silently failed at communication. I wanted to ask him if he agreed with me that Mrs. Harper didn’t know enough to be obliviated, but of course I couldn’t with her still in the room and I wasn’t able to communicate it with silent head gestures.

            Ron shook his head in a way that indicated that he had no idea what I was trying to say. It was at that moment I first saw a glimpse of blond hair through the window. The compound was set up like a motel with a long hallway leading to a series of locked rooms beyond the lounge. The doors separated the lounge from the hallway were paned with a series of small windows, through which the blond figure of Draco Malfoy pushing a pram was clearly visible walking towards us. He looked odd, dressed in slim fitting Muggle jeans and a hoodie, instead of his usual Wizarding robes.

            I nodded in the direction of the door and Ron turned instantly to look as well. Both of our jaws dropped as we realized who Dre was. Ron recovered first and jumped up just before Draco reached the door. He opened the door for Draco with a greeting of, “Hey Dre; good to see you again. Haven’t seen you since school,” letting Draco know the story we were using without explicitly telling Draco.

            At that point, I was still rather flabbergasted, taking in the sight of the blond haired pointy baby in the pram. I guessed her a girl, because she was wrapped in a flower covered purple blanket and matching purple flower cap. She was pink and had the squashed wrinkly face of a newborn, but several of Draco’s most distinctive features were evident on the serene face. She twitched as the pram crossed over the lip of the doorjamb, her little arms crossing over her face before falling back to rest on either side of the little head. She appeared to be sleeping.

            “Weasley, Potter, what are you doing here?” Draco asked in his slow drawl, stopping with the pram just this side of the door. He looked like he was considering turning back the way he’d come and running from us, but he didn’t. He just stood there, his tension clearly visible in the way he held his body so stiff and slightly jittery.

            “We just heard you were here and wanted to know if we could help. Whose baby is that?” I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me. It was one of the things that would be required for our report, but was not on the list of initial questions we needed to ask.

            “Smith’s. Oldest trick in the book; the bloody wanker said he’d marry me and then took off once I was up the duff,” Draco replied, his head held high.

            “Zacharias Smith?” Ron asked, a hint of glee in his eye.

            “No, Zekiel Smith, his older brother.”

            “So you took his last name anyway?” I asked, motioning for him to enter fully and take a seat. He did, pulling the pram along with him and Ron cast a discrete muffling charm towards the Muggle; not a full blown one that was easily noticed, but a lesser one that made it hard to distinguish individual words.

            “I took it when my parents were murdered. Zeke and I were together. I thought he’d come get me and that by taking it, I’d be easier for him to find. Or I thought you lot would pick me up, but you never came and he came months later than he should have.”

            “Then what happened? Once Smith came for you, why did you stay?” Ron asked.

            “It was only one weekend and then he was gone. He was a Death Eater too. He was worried your lot would lock him up, so he fled. He left me here and I have no idea where he went, except that I’m pretty sure he left the country.”

            “Harry, do we have a Zeke Smith on our list of missing Death Eaters?” Ron asked me.

            “No, none of the Smiths got their hands dirty, as far as I’m aware,” I replied.

            “Zeke did. I saw him. He’s such a fucking twat that I’ll testify against him if you want,” Draco offered.

            “Great! We really appreciate it mate,” Ron said, always happy to have a new lead on the bad guys.

            “What are you going to do for me and Ceres?” Draco asked.

            “What do you need us to do?” I asked. At this point, it still wasn’t clear why Draco hadn’t simply returned home.

            “I need protection from the other Death Eaters! They _murdered_ my parents and tried to kill me!” Draco practically screamed.

            “Boys, if there’s a problem, you’ll have to leave,” Mrs. Harper said, making her continued presence seated at her desk apparent.

            I clutched my wand up my sleeve and cast a nonverbal finite, to cancel the earlier muffling charm.

            “No, there’s no problem. Dre was just telling us about his parents’ murder; it’s a very upsetting subject,” Ron said quickly, accidentally flubbing the supposed gender.

            “Look _Dre,_ ” I stressed the fake name, “most of the murderers have been captured and I promise to protect you and little, er?”

            “Ceres,” Draco supplied.

            “Right, Ceres, from the rest,” I said.

            “Where will you take us?” Draco asked.

            “Malfoy Manor isn’t safe enough?” Ron asked, just to make sure.

            “Certainly not. That’s where they captured us from,” Draco said.

            Ron looked over his shoulder, verified that the Muggle was no longer paying attention, and recast the mild muffling charm.

            “Ron, do we still have any of the safe houses from the war?” I asked, not recalling any that were still active.

            “Not that I know of. We could take him to Grimmauld for now,” Ron replied.

            “Hermione may not like that,” I said.

            Neither Ron nor I would react well if Hermione brought home a stray former-Death Eater without asking us first, so we didn’t expect it to go over well with her either. Of course there were extenuating circumstances, including a baby and potential murderers to factor in, which was why Ron and I were considering it in the first place. Hermione had a bleeding heart, so as soon as she knew the full story, odds were she’d champion the cause and start an organization to boot. But that was not guaranteed, because there was also a chance that this being Draco Malfoy would remind her of our stay in Malfoy Manor during the war or any of a number of insults he’d lobbed at her at school. The best course of action was to warn her, before her return and not surprise her with it. Thus I’d have to owl her.

            “Well it’s a good thing Hermione’s gone back to her parents for the summer then, isn’t it?” Ron asked I reply.

            Hermione lived with me off and on. Mostly off, because she’d gone back to Hogwarts with Ginny to finish her NEWTS. Now that the school year was over, she’d decided to take some time to reconnect with her parents, who had barely recovered their memory of her when she had to leave them last fall.

            “Yeah, alright. I’ll take you two to my place, Malfoy,” I said.

            “And that girlfriend of yours, Jennifer, won’t mind?” Malfoy asked.

            “Ginny’s away touring Europe with her team, the Holyhead Harpies,” Ron said proudly. Ginny joined the Holyhead Harpies straight out of Hogwarts and had been on tour since.

            “And she dumped me when she went back to school and realized I was too far away. But at least she dumped _him_ when she went on tour,” I said, referring to my successor in the long line of blokes dumped by Ginny Weasley. Well not my successor exactly, but the bloke she dumped my successor for. Like I said, the list was long and always growing longer.

            “Good. Let me get our things,” Draco said and Ron was fastest with the finite this time.

            “Mrs. Harper, I’m going to leave with these two blokes. They promised to take care of me and Ceres. Can you get my discharge paperwork ready?” Draco asked the Muggle, still at her desk.

            The Muggle agreed and Ron stayed behind to fill out the paperwork and try to find out more information regarding the Muggles who were aware of Dre’s sudden miraculous gender change. Meanwhile I followed Draco back to a small room with adjoining loo. The room featured two cribs, twin sized beds, chests of drawers, and wardrobes, along with one changing table.

            “We share the rooms, only I lucked out and don’t usually have to have a roommate,” Draco explained, pulling a knapsack out of the wardrobe and shoving it full of clothes. “Will you get the baby things out of those drawers and put them in the basket of the pram? I don’t have another bag.”

            I agreed and asked, “Why is that then; that you don’t have to share?” As I spoke, I went to the drawers indicated. Inside I found a number of plain undershirts, a stack of nappies, a container of wipes, and a handful of newborn style gowns. There was only enough clothing to last a newborn half a week, at most; I knew from experience with Teddy.

            “Grandmother Malfoy was half veela. I try my best to keep the allure off, but when I’m sleeping it’s harder to control. Enough supervisors got called in the middle of the night to get my roommates off me that it was easier for them to give me my own room in the male shelter. They used to send me with the gay blokes over to the women’s shelter during the day, thinking that I’d have less problems there. They haven’t tried rooming me with a woman before, but there were a handful of times when my allure slipped and Muggle women had to be pulled off of me. Completely ruined the best beaded bracelet I ever made; they were teaching us to make them, you know. They put it down in my file that I’m incredibly attractive to both sexes and to give me my own room, if it’s at all possible. I didn’t put them up to it.”

            “They were teaching you to make bracelets?”

            “Yes, they give them out while asking for large donations to support their outreach…something or the other. Ceres’ blankets are in here,” Draco said, opening the bottom drawer of the wardrobe and handing over half a dozen folded receiving blankets.

            I shoved the blankets in the basket of the pram along with the rest of the baby things, noting that the lot didn’t even fill up half the basket. The one knapsack had been filled with Draco’s Muggle clothes, which all looked ratty and in horrible shape. That was topped off with a large canister of formula and three baby bottles, one of the bottles Draco handed me to spell clean.

            And then Draco pulled out a thick down coat his size and a smaller but equally thick baby snowsuit from the wardrobe. The baby snowsuit was all one piece, with arms, but no legs. He removed the sleeping newborn from the pram, dressed her in the snowsuit, and returned her to the pram, sliding the belt buckle through an opening between the legs. Ceres cried and fussed at being moved about, but settled and went back to sleep by the time he had his winter coat on.

            “Where’s your wand?” I asked as he moved to leave.

            “Don’t have one. My mother’s wand burnt up in the Room of Requirement, you took my wand on Easter, and the Dark Lord took my father’s wand over the summer before the war. We were all three without wands after the war. Ceres did manage to cast a warming charm with accidental magic on us when we were moved here from hospital. She doesn’t like the cold, it seems,” Draco answered.

            “Alright, but we’ll need to question you more when we get where we’re going. We need to obliviate all of the Muggles who know too much.”

            “Only the doctor. I am intersexed.”

            “What’s that?” I asked.

            “A mix of witch and wizard. Being part veela and part human sometimes causes physical abnormalities when it comes to the sex organs, blurring the lines of sexual assignment. Because sex determination occurs differently between birds and mammals, there are sometimes both male and female traits present in the same individual. The human sex doesn’t always align with the veela one. On the outside, I appear male, but the Muggles found no evidence of male parts on the inside, only female...” Draco shrugged as he trailed off.

            “Wait, so you’re telling me you gave birth in a Muggle hospital and no one was weirded out or anything?”

            “And without them cutting me either; Ceres just popped right out. Sure some of the Muggles were confused, but I tried my best to keep my male bits covered. I attempted wandless magic to disguise the situation and I was desperate enough that I think it worked a few times. The cloaca still confused them, but only until they brought in a specialist who said they were insensitive idiots. He was the one who figured out that I’m intersexed. They call their healers doctors, by the way. Did you know that?”

            “Yes, I did. Which doctor was this? I’ll need to know for my report.”

            “Doctor Sanjay Amir Gupta, MD. He’s probably my favorite Muggle so far and not just because he kept cussing at the other Muggles in his funny accent. He was all nice and concerned about Ceres. He told the Muggles that we both are something called, ‘Disabled,’ due to birth defects, which means the state needs to pay us for doing nothing for the rest of our lives. He wanted to take genetic samples and study us, but I declined. You are welcome, by the way.”

            “For what?” I asked, slightly confused.

            “For covering my trail and minimizing what was left for your lot to clean up; practically no one to obliviate. You can’t charge me with breaking the International Statute of Secrecy, because I didn’t. I haven’t cast a single spell with a wand and that one heating charm was Ceres’ accidental magic. Only a week old and already shown to be magical; that’s the power of pureblood for you.”

            “You must be so proud. Come on, Ron probably has your paperwork ready by now. Let’s go,” I said.

            “Wait, I almost forgot,” Draco said and ran into the bathroom. He threw the entire lot of toiletries, including his toothbrush, into a towel, folded it up, and put it on top the pile of baby things inside the basket of the pram. Then he tossed me his knapsack to carry and followed behind me with the pram.

            Ron did indeed have Mrs. Harper at the front desk sorted and was ready to go as soon as Draco, the baby, and I made our way back out to the lobby. All the Muggle needed was a signature from Draco, before she thrust a packet of paperwork into his hands.

            “Now this is your dismissal paperwork. With it, you can come back here or to another woman’s shelter whenever you need. We’ll guarantee your place back here for up to a month. If things aren’t right and you need to come back, you can and there won’t be any hassle. Also, the both of you are on government assistance, so you’ll need to mail in this form here so that they know where to send your checks,” here Mrs. Harper indicated one of the forms.

            “Will do. Thank you Mrs. Harper,” Draco replied more politely than I thought he was capable of, especially with a Muggle.

            “Take care,” Mrs. Harper said.

            Draco nodded and then the four of us were off. “Don’t suppose we can apparate with the baby, do you?” Ron asked as we set off the way we’d come.

            “Not in your life Weasley. Find a floo or hail a cab. I do hope we’re not going far,” Draco replied, pushing the pram.

            “London, actually, so it is a ways,” I replied.

            “The good news is that we definitely don’t need to obliviate that Harper chick,” Ron said. “She thinks that Draco was either pretending to be a bloke, because he’s a lesbian or because dames in the system have a tendency to end up raped, or both. She said that she and the other workers at that place figured that he was just trying to keep himself safe. And given that he did end up pregnant in the system and that there are a dozen notes in his file about blokes and broads throwing themselves at him, they think one of the blokes at the other home found out and raped him.”

            I thought Draco would offer a protest here, but he kept silent, so I eyed him suspiciously. He had told me about the problem with Muggles throwing themselves at him, but he hadn’t mentioned any actual rape attempts. From what he’d described, I imagined fully clothed lust-drunk Muggles sitting on him in his sleep and rubbing on him, before the Muggles in charge broke it up.

            “A few tried; they are attracted by the veela,” Draco said with a shrug. “My accidental magic took care of them.”

            “So there are potential rapists we need to obliviate,” I concluded and Draco agreed, although he said he didn’t have much information on them.

            We ended up walking back to the phone booth, where Ron apparated to the Ministry and got directions to the nearest magical establishment. It was too far to walk, so we did end up hailing a cab with plans to drive to the Wizarding pub. The cabbie, however, refused to take us with a baby and no carseat. Thus there was a short side trip to a conveniently close Muggle department store where I purchased a carseat, a nappy bag, a package of bottles, a case of formula, and a package of nappies, since Draco and the baby would be staying with me and I didn’t think his meager supplies were sufficient.

            “She’ll need somewhere to sleep, you know,” Draco said, eyeing a display crib.

            “She can use Teddy’s crib for now. He’s with Dromeda at the moment,” I replied, grabbing his arm to get him moving away from the baby things, because he looked like he’d buy out the store on my Sickle if I let him. I made a mental note to track down Teddy’s old newborn things to give him instead.

            “You have a baby, Potter?” Draco asked, once again pushing the pram.

            “My godson. He’s fifteen months now. He’s actually related to you; his grandmother Andromeda is your mother’s sister,” I explained as I steered us towards the cash register.

            “I didn’t like Bellatrix. If she’s like Aunt Bella, I don’t want her near me and Ceres.”

            “Polar opposites, I assure you. And she doesn’t live with me; she only visits with Teddy.”

            That appeased Draco and we were soon in the front of the store, getting into another taxi, this time with carseat in hand, Ceres’ things stowed neatly in the new nappy bag, and a couple of store bags with our remaining purchases.

            “Took you long enough. This one almost wasn’t going to wait any longer,” Ron said, having stayed outside with the mission of hailing another taxi.

            There was a minor delay when Draco proved to have no knowledge of how to install a Muggle child’s seat. Ron didn’t either, so I had to do it myself. But eventually, we all piled in the cab, Ron in the front and Draco and I in the back on either side of the baby. During the short journey, I wrote down the secret to my house and made Draco read it, before destroying the scrap of parchment. When we reached the Wizarding restaurant, we flooed to Grimmauld Place.

            We stowed our coats and I got Draco and the baby set up in Teddy’s room on the second floor. There was a break for Draco to tend to Ceres, who required a bottle and a burp, before falling back to sleep. Then Ron and I returned to questioning him for our report.

            The majority of our questions now had to deal with the murder of Draco’s parents. We were unaware they had been murdered or were even dead. In the chaos following the war, all three Malfoys had simply fallen off the Earth. Now we were learning that they had been kidnapped at wand point when none of the three had a wand. They were taken by Nikos Jugson and Caddaham Avery to an old rundown hovel near the edge of their property, where they were bound and gagged. They were tortured to give up powerful and potentially dangerous artifacts of Voldemort’s that they had allegedly had in the Manor. Only these items had never existed as far as the Malfoys knew and if they did, they hadn’t been left at Malfoy Manor.

            Narcissa died from a slashing curse with a little too much enthusiasm behind it. Lucius and Draco had then retaliated and tried to force their way out with only their brute strength. When it became clear that they wouldn’t both get away, Lucius sacrificed himself and sent Draco on ahead. Draco was found by Muggles and taken to a Muggle hospital. He was dazed and confused due to his head injury and ended up giving away the location of his torture to the Muggle police. The Muggles found the bodies and buried them, after gathering what evidence they could.

            Draco remained in hospital until his head healed without magic. At first the head injury kept him from knowing what was going on, so he stayed. When he began to recover, he stayed for fear that the Death Eaters would find him if he stepped out into Wizarding society again. He even feared the Death Eaters had staged a comeback and retaken the Ministry, since no one had come for him. Here he had been kidnapped, his parents murdered in front of him, and entered into the Muggle system, and yet no one from Magical Law Enforcement came; if I hadn’t have had firsthand experience with the chaos that followed the war, I might’ve thought the same myself.

            The first wizard Draco saw after the kidnapping was Zekiel Smith. That was the first he learned of the status of the Wizarding world and the rounding up of Death Eaters. He stayed with Smith in a magical tent Smith had brought with him in a nearby wooded area for two days and two nights. He asked Smith to stay with him in Britain and try to beat the Death Eater rap, since he didn’t think we’d have much evidence on either of them. Smith had asked him to go on the run, but he’d declined, unwilling to abandon Malfoy Manor.

            The parting between Draco and Smith had not been mutually agreed upon. Draco had been under the impression that Smith was still considering staying when he went down to a stream to bathe. By the time he returned, Smith and the tent were gone.

            Draco hadn’t filled out the proper discharge paperwork before taking off with Smith, so he still had his place in the Muggle home. He was a mess from being out in the elements and tired from walking back, so he gave the Muggles the excuse that he’d gotten lost in the woods after being chased by men who wanted to rape him. Men wanting to rape him was apparently a common reaction to his veela allure and was easily believed by Muggles.

            “I’m fairly proficient at keeping it tampered down; Father spent the entire summer before third year teaching me. But when I’m frightened or overly stressed, it sometimes leaks out. It started happening to me sixth year; everyone kept teasing me that the reason you were so obsessed with me and kept following me, Potter, was the allure,” Draco explained.

            “I never noticed it; I’ve always been immune,” Harry said with a shrug.

            “And what, exactly, did Smith do?” Ron asked.

            “He _left_ me. He didn’t marry me, so it’s his fault Ceres is a bastard. And he’s a fucking bloody wanker,” Draco answered angrily.

            “In the war, we mean. You said he was a Death Eater; what laws did he break,” I specified.

            “Creating a bastard _is_ against pureblood moral law,” Draco drawled. “Ceres can never legally inherit from either of our families as long as she’s not adopted.”

            “But the Ministry has changed all that archaic nonsense. Children born of unmarried couples have just as much right to inherit and receive child support as anyone,” Harry interjected.

            “With my money maybe. He can claim she isn’t his and duck child support and all responsibility. Sure I could leave her Galleons and maybe even the house too, but she can’t take my last name and titles. It’s not even that I want her to have his, but that she can’t have mine.”

            “She’s a girl. She was never going to be Lord Malfoy anyway,” Ron dismissed.

            “No, but she might have been Lady Malfoy and her husband might have been Lord Malfoy. Now I have to come up with an inheritance for her _and_ produce a legitimate heir,” Draco retorted.

            I felt bad for Draco and wished that I could single handedly change pureblood inheritance laws for his daughter. Maybe I could get Hermione interested in it and work up a petition. But I couldn’t do that now, because right now Ron and I still had a job to do.

            “Back to Smith’s crimes; what Ministry laws did he break?” Ron clarified.

            “I saw him torture Muggles and steal from Muggleborns,” Draco replied with a shrug, as if these were the least of Smith’s crimes.

            “Is that all?” Ron asked, in a manner that implied we saw cases of Muggle torture every day; and we practically did.

            “Yes. But that’s enough, isn’t it?” Draco replied.

            “To earn him five years maybe. The prison system is a bit overcrowded at the moment,” Ron said.

            “I hand you over a _Death Eater_ , one of the _Dark Lord’s_ followers, and your lot is going to let him go with only _five years_? Unlike me, _he_ joined up _voluntarily_ ,” Draco retorted.

            “We’ll see what we can do, but we can’t promise you anything,” Ron said and Draco scowled.

            “Right, so we have enough details on the double murder for our initial report; that’s our first priority and bringing Smith in is second. We need to gather a team and see what evidence can still be found of the murders. And we’ll send a Muggle expert to scour the Muggle system for whatever evidence they gathered. We almost certainly will have follow up questions for you, Malfoy. But the good news is that Nikos Jugson and Caddaham Avery are dead. They refused to be taken alive,” I said, steering the subject back on track.

            “Good. I hope they suffered,” Draco replied.

            “So what I don’t understand, Malfoy, is what you being a veela has to do with the Muggles now thinking you’re a woman?” Ron asked. Potentially obliviating Muggles was also on our to-do list and for that, we needed accurate details on who knew what.

            “I’m not stripping to show you, but if you are so interested, I will let you change Ceres’ nappy. By the smell of it, it’s a poopy one,” Draco said, holding his daughter up to hand over.

            Ron eyed me warily and I shrugged. I stood up and scooped the baby out of Draco’s and Ron’s arms, taking her to the changing table in Teddy’s room. Ron followed, so I instructed him to break out the nappies we’d just purchased. Sure enough, the dirty nappy was filled with mustard colored watery newborn poo, which I cleaned off with wipes I had for Teddy.

            “So that’s what a veela looks like down there,” Ron said, looking down over my shoulder. Instead of an anus, there was a cloaca, but the rest appeared human. “I wonder if Fleur looks like that.”

            I finished quickly, fastening a fresh nappy in place.

            “So, er, veela, eh?” I asked.

            “And that is why we need the allure to mate with non-veela; it’s the easiest way to get you mammal-wired sex fiends off,” Draco said from the doorway, having followed his baby.

            Ron shrugged and said, “I always heard they were different down there, but no one’s ever really told me how.”

            “Actually veela males and veela females are identical on the outside, just like birds. It’s only the hybrids who have both. I have male parts on the outside, so they assumed I was entirely male. They did a chromosome test when I was little that revealed a human X chromosome and a veela X. In humans, two Xes make a female, but in birds, two Xes make a male. My father is a two X male, and so was his father. From our family history, it seemed that I would be too, but I wasn’t. I began to suspect something was off when I came of age,” Draco said.

            “So how can they know when a baby, like your Ceres, is a XX human female or an XX hybrid male?” Harry asked.

            “Easy; a human female would have human reproductive parts, not the veela ones.”

            “So are you and Ceres hybrid males then?” Harry asked, confused.

            “No. I have the same XX chromosomal arrangement as my father and grandfather, but for whatever reason, my body is expressing the human sex internally. Ceres has a veela X and a human Y chromosome, making her a veela female and she also appears to be a human female. Confused Dr. Gupta at first, so he ordered all these fancy scans on her. He said her internal organs are one hundred percent female, which pretty much seals it. Come to think of it, if there is anyone who needs obliviating, it’s him, because he has this whole hypothesis on what’s going on in our family. He thinks there must be something called a ‘mutation’ that Ceres and I share that messes up our sex organs. Like I said, he was very interested in studying us, but I turned him down.”

            “Imagine that; going your whole life thinking you’re a bloke and then waking up one day and realizing your parents got it wrong,” Ron said.

            “I doubt they got you wrong, Weasley; you would make one ugly witch,” Draco said. “And I am still a wizard. A few of the wrong spare parts doesn’t change my gender identity.”

            Ron shuddered and I snickered at the thought of Ron as a girl. “Will you be alright here Draco? Ron and I have a report to fill out and we’re still on duty,” I said.

            “I just need to know how to warm up a bottle in this place,” Draco replied.

            “Call Kreacher; he’s my elf,” I said.

            “You are coming back tonight, right?” Draco asked, sounding more vulnerable than before.

            “Yes, why?” I asked.

            “Because I’m used to sleeping with a guard at the front door. I won’t be able to sleep if I’m completely alone; what if the Death Eaters come for me?”

            “Malfoy, you know that parchment you had to read to enter?” Ron asked in reply.

            “Yes…” Draco’s voice was hesitant.

            “That means that this house is under the Fidelius Charm, which is the strongest protection known to Wizarding kind. We had a gang of Death Eaters gathered outside on the walk during the war, but they couldn’t get in. Harry, Hermione, and I slipped in and out right under their noses,” Ron said smugly.

            There was the one breach during the war that had caused us to flee, when Hermione accidentally brought a Death Eater, Yaxley, with us when we fled the Ministry with the locket. We had cleared out, because we didn’t know what the consequences of that breach would be and we couldn’t risk it. After the war it was revealed that Yaxley had stumbled around inside the house ransacking the place. And although Yaxley was able to reenter whenever he wished, he was unable to let anyone else into the house. He knew the secret, but wasn’t the secret keeper. That meant that once Yaxley was killed in battle, the safety of Grimmauld Place was restored.

            Ron and I didn’t bother mentioning any of that to Draco, since we were trying to instill confidence, not shatter it. I also didn’t mention the fact that there were an abnormally large number of secret keepers for the house, since everyone Dumbledore had told were now keepers. Granted over half of them were also recently deceased, but there were still plenty keepers left alive; it was a good job I trusted each and every one of them with my life.

            “We are safe here, then?” Draco asked.

            “Yes, we are all safe. Our shift ends at midnight; I’ll come straight back after,” I reassured. “Will you be alright until then?”

            Draco nodded and seemed fine on his own. I still had his wand in a drawer somewhere and I considered hunting it down and giving it back to him now. But then I didn’t know how much I could trust him and I was already leaving him alone in my house, so I decided against it. I would do it later, once I’d tracked down a few more Muggles to verify his story and he’d cooperated with bringing in Zekiel Smith.

            And then Ron and I were apparating back to work to fill out what had to be the weirdest case report we’d come across so far. We would probably be laughing over this night for years to come.

 

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Author’s Note: For those of you who missed it, that is the ending right there.


	2. Epilogue

 Author’s Notes: This was originally an oneshot I wrote for the Harry/Draco Mpreg fest, Betaed by Edelau. There seemed to be some confusion about the ending, with many reviewers feeling that there wasn’t one. The ending has always been there, but the issue is that it isn’t quite at the end of the story. I couldn’t leave the story there and wrote past the ending. So to avoid any further confusion, I am breaking this story up into chapter 1, the proper oneshot, ending with the ending of this story, and chapter 2, the epilogue part that I couldn’t help but adding. If you have already read this story, there is no new material here, just a teeny amount of restructuring.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry’s POV:

            Only we’d overlooked that psychological phobia the Muggles were treating Draco for.

            When I returned home, Draco and Ceres were nowhere to be found. They weren’t in Teddy’s room or the drawing room, where I’d left them. Nor were they in the loo or the kitchen. Grimmauld Place is actually a rather fair size and it might’ve taken me all night to search it, if not for Kreacher. My elf popped up and informed me that the missing Malfoys were hiding in the closet in Regulus’ room on the top floor.

            So I knew where they were, I just had to get to them, which Draco had made as difficult as possible. Not only had he locked both the bedroom and closet doors, but he had shoved all of the furniture up against the door and barricaded himself in. It might’ve taken me all night to magic that mess out of the way, but it didn’t, because I had Kreacher. The elf snapped his fingers and all of the furniture returned to its proper place and the doors unlocked.

            “Draco, it’s me Harry! I’m coming in,” I called, hoping that whatever was going on in his brain would stop once he knew I was back.

            When Draco didn’t come out or even open the closet door, I went in. I found him huddled in the corner at the back of the closet, Ceres in one arm. He was struggling for breath, having either a panic or an asthma attack. He looked so vulnerable like that. He was no longer the strong, self-confident prick of a budding Death Eater from school, but a terrified victim of a horrible violent crime trying to protect his newborn baby. My instincts screamed at me to go to him, to protect him, and to reassure him that everything was fine. If it weren’t for my Auror training on how to deal with victims, I probably would’ve tried to hold him in my arms. But I did have that training, so I knew that new mothers were easily spooked and that was the last thing I wanted to deal with tonight.

            “Relax, it’s just me,” I said soothingly. I had experience dealing with traumatized victims now, so I knew what to say. “No one is going to hurt you. Kreacher and I are the only ones in the house with you; the Death Eaters aren’t here and can’t get in.”

            As I talked, Draco began to calm down, his breathing returning to a more even pace, although it remained rather fast.

            “Now, what happened? Why are you hold up in the closet?” I asked seriously. Taking the victim seriously was the professional way to handle a situation. If Ron was there I probably would’ve had trouble keeping a straight face, but Ron wasn’t there, so I was able to concentrate on the moment.

            “I had to find a safe place to hide the baby,” Draco explained through gasps of breath.

            “The entire house is safe; I told you that. You could have stayed in the nursery with the baby like I told you.”

            “We were all alone. You weren’t here.”

            “I told you I had to go back to work. Ron and I were working on your case. We have to file the paperwork so that our boss knows what is going on and that this is a serious case. Come tomorrow morning he’ll call a meeting and assign a team to work on it. There will be Aurors tracking down evidence of your parents’ murders. I know I told you those men are dead, but there will be a full investigation to make sure the same men who did it are the ones in those graves. If Polyjuice or anything funny was used, we’ll find out. If there was anyone else involved, even someone who was only working behind the scenes, we’ll find out. And a team will be sent out to figure out how they breached the wards at your house. Once they finish with the evidence, I’ll personally have the house returned to you.”

            “Don’t leave us there alone.” Draco’s voice was pleading and he had a scared look on his face; a look I was all too familiar with from the war and never wanted to see on that face again. It twisted my gut to see and made me want to do something about it.

            “I won’t make you go back if you don’t want to. You and Ceres can stay here,” I offered. It was a rather big imposition to offer, but I had a large house, a bleeding heart, and in that moment, I wanted to help. If Draco proved he couldn’t behave himself any better than at school, then I’d find somewhere else for him to stay. But he’d been decent, for him, so far and I thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

            He nodded, indicating his acceptance of my proposal.

            “Well you can’t stay in there all night. Here, let me help you up,” I said, holding out my hand to him and he took it.

            Draco stood up carefully, minding the low ceiling above his head and the baby in his arms. He stooped back down to grab the nappy bag, but then he let me lead him out of there and back down to the nursery on the second floor.

            “It’s a good thing I came when I did; you wouldn’t have been able to hole up there with the baby all night,” I said as we walked down the stairs.

            “I have everything I need. I stocked this bag with bottles, formula, water, nappies, wipes, and two changes of clothes. Ceres and I could’ve slept up there,” Draco replied.

            “Well you’ll be more comfortable down here. There’s a bed in the nursery for you to sleep on.”

            Draco stopped suddenly on the stairs and asked, “Where will you be sleeping?”

            “Up on the top floor in the room next to the one you were in; that’s where my room is,” I answered, wondering what the matter was now.

            “I want to sleep on the top floor too. Put the crib up there for Ceres, please?” Draco’s eyes were wide and pleading.

            I debated the issue internally for a moment. Did I want to tear up Teddy’s room to appease Draco’s crazy paranoia? Ultimately I went with another idea. “Why don’t I sleep down there in the guest bedroom next to the nursery?” I offered.

            That was agreeable to Draco and he got moving again. I was tired from a long night’s work and tried to settle him in for the night, only to find him following me to the kitchen when I went to eat my supper. I worried he was going to try to follow me into the bath too, which I absolutely wouldn’t allow, but he didn’t. It seemed that as long as he could hear me going about my business on the same floor, he was alright. He didn’t follow me into the guest bedroom either, although he did ask that I keep my door open; his door he wanted locked, because of the whole veela thing, but it would be easier for me to hear his calls for help if my door was left open. I tried to reassure him that I was resistant to that sort of thing, but it fell on deaf ears.

            As I was finally drifting off to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, I decided that I was taking Draco’s crazy arse to a mind healer first chance I got. The Muggles obviously weren’t making that shite up, because he clearly had a phobia of being left alone without protection. That was made blatantly obvious by the fact that he’d freaked despite the fact that he knew that he was in my house, under my protection, and that I was coming back soon.

            I figured that without major help, sending him back to Malfoy Manor to live on his own with only his daughter would be impossible. I had offered that he could stay on with me, but if that was to happen, he’d at least have to calm down and be okay on his own while I was at work. Hopefully the Janus Thickey ward would help him and maybe even fix him up completely. That would probably take time though and I was expected to work again tomorrow. Thus I decided to fire-call Dromeda and Molly tomorrow and see if either of them felt like babysitting Draco for me. Dromeda might do it, because technically she was his only living adult relative and might feel responsible. Molly, on the other hand, was easily enticed by newborns; she might come and watch him just to hold Ceres.

            I slept peacefully and deeply for several long hours, which was a relief after such a long day. I must’ve finally begun to relax, because I fell into one of those vaguely erotic dreams in which my ex-boyfriend Patrick was in bed with me. Patrick was the Muggle I dated after being dumped by Ginny and having a minor sexuality crisis. I’d gone Muggle due to the media pressure associated with being the Savior of the Wizarding world. In the beginning, I didn’t know what I was doing and second guessing my emotions. I was still constantly in the spotlight and that wasn’t the type of thing I wanted every witch and wizard in the country gossiping over. So I’d started with Muggle clubs and exploring London’s gay scene.

            Max had been the first to come up and ask me for a dance. Dancing was easier with a man than with a woman. He’d kissed me there in the club and that was the first inkling I had that I was moving in the right direction. There had been other Muggles, more kissing, a few dates, and then I’d met Patrick. I couldn’t exactly take a Muggle back to my place and there was no way I was going to do anything more than kiss in public, even if it was amongst the anonymity of Muggle London. That ended most of those relationships before they got started, the exception being Patrick.

            Patrick hadn’t minded that I couldn’t take him back to my place, buying my story that I was an orphan living with mates. I told him I was a cop and that my housemates were a bunch of straight male cops who didn’t know I was gay. He said it was fine and he had his own small flat in London that he invited me to. Things just clicked with him. He showed me around the city, taking me to places I’d never been before, in addition to the more typical movie nights and fancy dinners. We’d done everything together and he was my first when it came to almost every gay milestone.

            The problem with dating a Muggle was all of the lies. I had to keep my wand hidden and couldn’t cast any spells, but I could live with that. It was the lies that destroyed us.

            Patrick was a smart bloke and he soon realized that I wasn’t familiar with typical Muggle-cop terms and events. I tried to explain that I was a special sort of detective, but my young age made that unbelievable. Muggles didn’t make detective under twenty and I couldn’t mention my defeat of a certain dark wizard to support my claims. Then there was the fact that I had no friends or family to introduce him to, other than Ron and Hermione. Maybe I could’ve tried with Seamus and Neville, but after the bad impression Ron made, I didn’t want to risk it. The final straw was when I was noticed by a group of Hogwarts aged fan-girls, dressed in full Wizarding robes, who wanted my autograph. After that Patrick knew I’d been lying to him about something big and the relationship fell apart.

            I considered telling Patrick the truth about the Wizarding world, but then a really big case hit at work and I was swamped. When things settled down again, I realized that I didn’t really miss him all that much. I missed the sex, but I just wasn’t in love with him. Sex was better with him than with Ginny, although by that point, I was pretty sure that that was due to Patrick’s cock and Ginny’s lack of one. He’d been a good start, but the relationship just wasn’t worth revealing the Magical world to a Muggle.

            I’d been single for a few months now and even come out in the Wizarding world with a night at the local Wizarding gay club, but I hadn’t found Mr. Right. My fame worked against me, attracting wizards who only wanted me because I was Harry Potter. I hadn’t given up hope, reminding myself that I’d only been on the market for a few months and that someone would come along for me eventually. But for now, when I found myself in need of release, it was Patrick I thought about.

            Everything in my dream was a hazy blur, except for the sharp tingles running up and down my cock. I was horny, but without a clear outlet for it until the tall, slender form of Patrick emerged. We kissed, his hot lips pressed firmly to mine and his blond hair falling in my eyes, so that those pale strands were all I could see. Then he entered me, filling me completely and I cried out in pleasure. He pulled away, but his face was no longer blurry and definitely no longer belonged to my ex. Now it was Draco over me, in me, and it felt so real and so right. Then I was cuming harder than I’d ever cum in a dream before.

            I woke up with a start, covered in sweat, with a wet warmth spreading in my pants. I threw back my covers, letting the cold air cool my body, as I caught my breath. Then I heard it: the sound of a throat clearing. It instantly had my Auror instincts snapping into action, my head jerking over to the door, where Draco stood. I was already reaching for the bedside table where I keep my wand, before I realized it was just Draco. Draco was supposed to be here, so there was no real danger. I let my hand fall limply down to the mattress, my mind racing. There was an excited second where I hoped my dream was about to come true.

            “I thought you were immune to veela,” Draco said with a self-satisfied smirk.

            “That was you?” I asked.

            To answer my question, he focused his eyes on me and I felt a pull towards him at the same moment my cock gave one final twitch and I swear I shot off another dribble of cum. If I wasn’t panting so hard, I would’ve been trying to impress him with a number of stupid things that ran through my head. I almost boasted of being the Savior of the Wizarding world, even though everyone already knew that and I normally wanted nothing more than for everyone to forget it. As I regained my breath, I asked, “Why?”

            “Because I wanted to see what you would do. I had to make sure I was safe. You’re resisting; that’s a good start. If you tried to jump me, then I’d subdue you. Ceres and I would be out of here before you come to.” As Draco spoke, he fiddled with the wand in his hands.

            He didn’t have a wand of his own and the one in his hands looked very familiar. One look at my empty bedside table confirmed that it was my wand he held. “Can I have my wand back now?”

            “No, not yet. I need to know what you plan on doing with it,” Draco replied.

            “Casting a cleaning charm, what else?”

            “You’d be surprised.”

            “Yeah? Well I’m already surprised. I’ve never had a veela affect me like that,” I said, thinking back to the Quidditch World Cup I attended during my school days. Those veela had me out of my seat to get a better look, but at least I wasn’t trying to climb over the railing like Ron. Fleur too had never really gotten to me the way she did the other boys.

            “Let me guess: you’ve only ever seen female veela. My allure seems to be of the male variety. It’s stronger on females and gay men. That is a good part of why I initially chose a shelter for males. I take it you are not as straight as I thought.”

            “You obviously haven’t read the Prophet in months. That was front page news for practically forever.”

            “Glad I missed it.”

            “So can I have my wand now, or what?” I asked, growing irritated with the conversation and with the cooling pool of spunk in my pants.

            “Are you mad at me?”

            “For what?”

            “For testing you, for taking your wand, and for figuring out that you are a flaming poof.”

            “Pot calling the kettle black there, Malfoy,” I replied.

            “Huh?”

            “You just had a baby; you’re obviously just as much of a flaming poof as I am.”

            “I’m infertile with witches and I have always known that I would have to procreate in order to continue the Malfoy line.” Draco held his head up high when he said this, as if his sexuality had nothing to do with liking cock. He seemed to stand taller and straighter when he was uncomfortable.

            “And how long have you known that you’re infertile with witches?”

            “Over a month now.”

            “Exactly.”

            “But I did suspect it all along.”

            “Right…Can I have my wand back or what?”

            “As soon as you promise that you are not planning revenge or an attack on me in any way.” As Draco spoke, he tapped my wand against the palm of his other hand.

            I closed my eyes in exasperation, before making the promise. He returned my wand and left the room before I cast the first cleaning spell. I still felt dirty afterwards, so I showered and changed. Once I was presentable I went looking for him, only to find that he’d locked me out of the nursery, him and Ceres inside.

            I knocked on the door and called, “Draco? Are you okay in there?”

            “Fine,” came the reply, but the lock did not budge.

            “If you’re fine, then I’m going back to sleep.” The sun was shining, but it was far too early for me to be up when I was on nightshift again tonight.

            “Alright,” he said through the door.

            I went back to bed, only now I couldn’t get Draco out of my head. Despite my earlier release, I was horny again. I tried thinking of Patrick, considering the possibility that what I needed was a good shag to clear my head, but I couldn’t clear Draco from my mind. Thoughts of Draco’s hair, lips, skin, and even his voice had me aroused. I’d never thought of Draco like that before, but now I did and I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but I had to admit to myself, at least, that he was hot. I continued thinking about Draco in that way while I went back into the loo and jerked off.

            I tried again to sleep, but couldn’t, so I got dressed for the day instead. Then I went back to the nursery to let him know I was going downstairs for breakfast. He’d already eaten, but only moments after I tucked into my meal, he entered the kitchen with Ceres on his shoulder. He eyed me warily, before taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. He let Kreacher serve him juice and toast, but declined the full meal.

            We sat in silence as I ate. When I finished, I looked up at him and asked, “What was that about? This morning, I mean?”

            “I told you, I was testing you,” he answered.

            “To see if I’d what, jump you or something?”

            Draco nodded.

            “It wasn’t to see if I’m attracted to you?” Part of me wanted him to say it was; a really large part. If this was a come-on, then there was a possibility the dream could come true.

            “In case you haven’t noticed, Potter, I had a baby just last week. It’s a bit too soon for me to start coming on to you,” Draco drawled, one eyebrow quirked suggestively.

            “Now that you know where you stand with me, I think it only fair I know the same about you in return,” I shot back, a bit defensively.

            “Like everyone else, I wanted your attention from day one. However, over the years I have come to realize that getting your attention isn’t worth it. I only wanted to know how much to be on guard around you,” he revealed.

            That gave me hope. If he wanted my attention before, then he might want it again. It also meant that he wasn’t among the legion of obsessed fans drooling over me, which was good. I could be the one in pursuit of him, which was appealing. “Did you test all of the muggles you’ve come into contact with too?” I asked another and he nodded. “Why?”

            “To see who I need to stay away from.”

            “And I passed the test? Because I restrained myself?”

            “Yes. It’s more than most gay men. That’s how I found a safe room in that first shelter for so long.”

            “What, you went around giving off allure in the middle of the night and seeing who responded?”

            Draco nodded and added, “I found a corner room surrounded by unusually resistant straight men. I asked to be moved there. There was only one bed available at first, so I had to share. But after this one bloke broke in to get to me, my roommate punched him and broke his nose. They made both muggles leave and then I had the room to myself.”

            “And at the women’s shelter? You said your allure is stronger with women, didn’t you?” I asked.

            “Yes, that was a problem, but women aren’t as sex crazy as men. I just give them all a strong burst in the middle of the night and then they had their fix until the next night.” He shrugged, as if inducing mass wet dreams was no big deal.

            “Is that how you coped with Hogwarts too?”

            Draco shook his head, “No, I had other forms of magic then. I had my wand to protect myself and potions to dampen down the allure. It’s only been since the final battle that I’ve had to resort to such undignified means.”

            When he said this, I thought of the prostitutes who worked Knockturn Alley. It didn’t matter how many times we busted them, they would be right back on the corner the next day. They all had hard luck stories and seemed to be the result of abusive childhoods and bad decisions. They had one reason or another why they couldn’t hold down a real job; kicked out of Hogwarts, born squibs, war injury damaged their wand arm, and the like. Most of them were addicted to mind-numbing potions, which only made things worse. That side of society was probably the only thing my messed up childhood sheltered me from.

            Draco wasn’t that bad yet, but he had been through a lot and he was using sexual gratification to keep himself safe, which was a bad sign. He needed help and the last thing I told myself before going to bed last night was that I was going to get him help. I needed to get Draco into therapy with a real mind healer as soon as bloody possible, because I was not about to put up with crazy panicky Draco any longer than absolutely necessary. I would use my pull as the Savior of the Wizarding world to get him seen right away, if need be. I might not have to though, because my status as an Auror demanding treatment for a witness would probably be enough to cover it.

            I wanted to take care of that right that minute, but there was his phobia of being left alone to consider. Thus I did the only thing I could do: I called Molly Weasley and Andromeda Tonks over to help.

            Dromeda brought Teddy with her and when the toddler didn’t cower in fear as expected around someone like Bellatrix, Draco came out from behind me and gave her a chance. I went to leave, but Draco stopped me. I tried to reassure him that these two witches were perfectly capable of defending him and Ceres, and no, Dromeda wasn’t even a little crazy, despite the resemblance. Draco didn’t look convinced.

            “But what if we’re attacked?” he asked.

            “We already discussed this Malfoy; Dromeda and Molly are both formidable witches. They will protect you and the baby.”

            “Until you hear and come in from the other room. But you are not going to be in the other room. You aren’t going to be here at all. How will you know when we need you to come back?”

            “So what, you need a monitoring medallion like a child?” I joked under my breath, exasperated. I thought he wouldn’t catch it, but he did. His response, a curt nod, was even more unexpected. “Alright, I’ll pick one up for you while I’m out.”

            “And Ceres’ too, but she is much too young for a necklace; she will need an anklet,” Draco replied.

            “Alright, can I go now? I promise I’ll be right back,” I replied and he agreed.

            I had to wait in line to make the appointment, but I was indeed able to get Draco scheduled to be seen right away. In St. Mungo’s speak, that translates to next week, as opposed to three months from now.

            After St. Mungo’s, I apparated to Diagon Alley where I found a set of monitoring jewelry. The set was designed for a parent of three, so that with one monitoring medallion on me, I could monitor Teddy, Ceres, and Draco simultaneously. Ceres would wear an anklet with a turquoise stone carrying the charm, while Draco’s stone was on a long chain that could be slipped around his neck, and Teddy’s stone was in a bracelet, because he was a little older. The set came with an extra bracelet with a hole set in place to hold the stone, for when Ceres outgrew her anklet.

            Then as promised, I went straight home, handing out the monitoring jewelry and letting Draco know when his appointment was. Upon my return, I realized that I’d been anxious too. Part of me feared that he’d be gone by the time I got home; that I’d never see him again and that I’d never have a chance to make him mine. As he let me fasten the necklace around his neck, I realized that wasn’t the case. Not only would he be living with me, giving me all the time in the world to make him mine, but he was already asking me to claim him, with the monitoring charm. He would never let just anyone have that sort of power over him. This meant he trusted me and from someone who seemed to trust no one, that was a good start.

 

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Author’s Note: I imagine a slow build to a nice happily ever after from there, but that isn’t part of the story. The story ended at the end of chapter 1, because this is an oneshot. Please Review!

 


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